


already seen, always again

by erintoknow



Series: Aria-Rough Drafts [38]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Panic Attacks, Trans Character, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 07:10:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21032267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erintoknow/pseuds/erintoknow
Summary: Unforeseen complications to body-jacking





	already seen, always again

Watch the wheel spin, but keep your money to yourself. Jane is spectator only. Silent observer, holding old, old habits you can draw tight around her like a shawl. Observer, never observed, look but don’t touch. This is Hallow Ground turf, the ritzy casino halls are the mushroom cap signaling the fairy circle of decay out of sight underneath.

Just stand in the crowd, one manicured hand holds a glass to Jane’s lips as she watches the spinning roulette wheel. There’s some there, old and familiar, already seen, always again. “Thirty-four.” Jane mouths, unbidden. Seconds later a wheel slows, the ball falls, rocks up the middle back down. Number 34. One man cheers, others grumble.

What does it mean? It had been easy, before, to attribute any sense of déjà vu to an artifact of inhabiting Jane’s body for hours at a time. Passing feelings easily forgotten after their moment save for the lingering sense of unease. But now, in this casino mesmerized by the spinning of the wheel…

“Twenty-five,” Jane whispers, under her breath. Seconds later the white ball slots into place: number 25. A frown etches on Jane’s face. You don’t like this one bit. Now that you’ve given up using possession, Jane is your only option for undercover work. The idea this body is… hiding some trick or talent…? Jane was supposed to be the perfect nobody. No friends, no family. A comatose drug user picked up off the street. Would have been broken down for parts if you hadn’t intervened.

What ever this is that Jane can do, it’s not the talent of a nobody.

Jane turns away from the roulette table and scans the hall. Ostentation gold filigree, tropical plants, one wall is a massive fish tank with a coral reef in miniature. You’re getting distracted.

You can investigate Jane’s strange ‘talent’ on your own time. Today is for scoping out the Casino. You need to know exactly what you’ll be up against when Adrestia makes her move. It would be better to not learn Hollow Ground’s hospitality to would-be thieves first hand.

Navigating past the procession of slot machines, Jane scans the crowd. Make a mental map of exits, staff areas, potential obstacles, any point of interest that can be turned for or against you.

Jane comes to a stop, putting a hand on the side of a slot machine to steady herself. Her legs have gone weak and sweat soaks her bra under the dress. Puts her free hand to her forehead, eyes squeezed shut tight. What on earth is happening to Jane? She’s never reacted like this before. Not even when her life was in danger. You force Jane to open her eyes again and scan the room. Are you under attack? Did someone hit Jane with some kind of poison gas? A dart? Some sort of sonic weapon?

Jane’s heart freezes in her chest as her eyes catch the figure on the far side of the room. A woman, frighteningly thin. A long white gown runs from her shoulders to the floor, draping sleeves hide her hands and a veil covers her face. A thick fur coat wrapped around her the color of over-ripe apples or maybe dried blood.

Now that you see her, Jane can’t look away.

The skeleton woman isn’t alone. There’s a small old man standing beside her in the corner. Ashen gray suit, holding a small tray of very fancy looking snacks. The two are talking? Arguing? Jane can only see the old man’s face and not very well at this distance.

The longer she stands there, the worse it feels. Vision blurring, chest and throat tight. Are you– is _Jane_ having a panic attack? Usually when you have attacks it feels like you’re drowning in yourself, falling over the event horizon, watching the last vestiges of the outside world shift to red and turn dark.

This is nothing like that. Or rather it is but inverted. Floating on top in Jane’s head while below you _something_ collapses into itself. It almost feels worse in its alienation from your– from Jane’s body. But there’s only you in here, no one else, you’ve looked! You’ve looked so hard. So often. Just to make sure. So… who is collapsing?

Who _is_ this woman? You need to get a closer look. Understand what’s happening.

Jane’s body moves stiffly, as if she’s fighting you. An unsettling feeling all it’s own independent of all the others.

The woman’s voice becomes distinct through the buzz of the crowd as Jane tries to surreptitiously wander closer. It’s a voice like nails on chalkboard raising the hair at the nape of Jane’s neck. It’s nails digging into skin, wrapped tight around the throat pinching out air, life. And there’s that feeling, already seen, always again.

And then she looks up, dismissing her companion with a wave of her hand. And she sees Jane. Sees you. Standing there not ten feet away, leaning on a slot machine for support. You need to move. Jane won’t move. Won’t look away.

The woman raises an arm, long sleeve falling back to show the silk-white glove stretching up. “I don’t believe it.” She tilts her head in naked fascination, her other hand gently tugging at the edge of her glove.

Jane leans forward, a snarl forming on her lips. “You’d better believe it.”

The woman is pulling at her glove, exposing skin. “How is this possible?” Her voice is soft and bewildered, ice-cold and hackle-raising.

Her companion, the old man reaches up to pull at her arm, gentle. “Not here, Mistress.”

The woman hisses. “I know, fool.” She shrugs but the hand stands affixed to her arm.

An unbidden smile unfolds on Jane’s face, flashing teeth as she crosses her arms. “So long, _Sucker_.” She turns to walk away, raises a hand with only the middle finger extended.

One step, two, three, four, back into the crowd. The throng of people, criminals and elderly, fleecers and dreamers. Something gives out inside Jane and you almost collapse to the floor. It’s just you again. Just Jane. Lightheaded and panicking, soaking in a cold sweat. It takes an act of will to pull Jane together, to force one foot in front of the other.

You’ll have to finish your preparations through other means.

You’re keeping Jane far, far away from this place for the foreseeable future.


End file.
